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Thursday, May 30, 2013

When we finished the Bolder Boulder 10K this weekend, Ken told me that there was some guy near him who puked his guts out at the finish line. I really hate those stories because I hate puke so much (well, no one likes it – but my issue is definitely phobia-level), and I always consider myself lucky to not be near pukers during races (I mean, seriously, give me sweat, blood, phlegm, poop and I’m golden. But keep the puke far, far away).

Today our pictures came back from the race and here is one of Ken. Guess who is behind him?

I guess I was too busy waving my club around to notice:

So, puking aside, decided to do a sprint triathlon this coming Sunday, which is funny because there has been no training for it. Training isn’t necessary for every race, is it?

I got my butt to spin class just so I can remember how to pedal before Sunday. The instructor was playing that song by the Red Hot Chili Peppers “The Zephyr Song” – you know the one that says “Fly way on my zephyr” ? (What is a zephyr anyway?) She said she always thought the lyrics were “Fly away on my cellphone” (listen to it – it really sounds like that).

I swear, at any given time I have 42 songs that I think I know the lyrics to, but don’t. It really is quite amusing.

I thought “Like a virgin, touched for the very first time” was, “Like a virgin, touched for the 33rd time.”

I thought “Every time you go away,you take a piece of me with you” was, “Every time you go away, you take a piece of meat with you.”

I thought (from Losing My Religion by REM) “That’s me in the corner” was, “Let’s pee in the corner.”

Let’s pee in the corner!! LOLAM (Laughing Out Loud At Myself)

The best is when you think you know the lyrics and you are singing at the top of your lungs and someone says, “Uh, wait. What do you think this song says??” Then they laugh at you for a very long time, as I’ve they’ve never gotten any lyrics wrong.

Do you ever throw up at the end of races (or during)? Me? No.

Ever do an spontaneous race that you really haven’t trained for? No, not usually. I’m usually too Type A for that.

Monday, May 27, 2013

A few days before the Bolder Boulder 10K Emma (12 years old) and I had a talk. She was being hard on herself about running the race and really wanted to improve on her time from last year. I know Emma, and I know her mind can be her worst enemy (as it can be for most of us). I told her there were two expectations I had for her with this race:

1. No complaining (she is Shut Up + Run’s offspring, right?)

2. Run a race she could be proud of, whatever this means (meeting a time goal, feeling good the whole race, etc.)

This is not to say she couldn't let me know when she got a cramp or got tired. But it did mean that I didn’t want to spend 6.2 miles hearing about her being miserable. After all, she wanted to do this race. I never told her I expected her to do it or that I cared if she did it or not. You might remember last year we had a tough time for the first half of the race – I guess I wanted it to go a bit better than that and for her to enjoy the day just for the fact that she COULD run, and that we were together.

We got our cave girl costumes on and got ready to go.

At the start Emma said, “I am going to take it one mile at a time. I am not going to think about how much further I have to go.” She ran really strong the first three miles, and said, “I am just having confidence in myself. That is the difference between this year and last year.” YES!

We high-fived our way through the miles, running through sprinklers every chance we got. I hit as many people as possible with my club. I almost did a keg stand at mile 4 (no joke), but I suppose that would make me BMOTY (Bad Mother of the Year). I had to laugh at mile three when I was shooting out snot rockets and Kathy, without missing a running step, carefully took out a Kleenex and blew her nose in the most lady-like way possible. I don’t know why she’s friends with me. It seriously is like Lady and The Tramp.

In the end, we finished in 1:09, five minutes faster than Emma ran last year.

I loved the smile on Emma’s face when I told her that. It’s true that getting the time you hoped for is not everything, it’s just a part of the day. For me, sharing this race with my family and Kathy, enjoying the warm Colorado sun surrounded by runners, drinking a beer at 9:00 a.m., and scaling fences is what it’s all about.

What? I had to do it to get to the porta potty.

More shots from the day: Christmas Card?

Post-run Starbucks visit. I want you to see my manly arm. WTF with that? You should see my hairy armpits too (joke)

Heidi didn’t care too much about the costumes, all she wanted was to eat my club. I think she thought it was a turkey leg.

I think she was just feeling sassy because she got a new tag and collar and no she feels all fancy.

What are your Memorial Day plans? Did you race this weekend?

Do you ever run races with your kids? We run the Bolder Boulder together every year and usually a few 5Ks.

Friday, May 24, 2013

It’s true that every sport, hobby, activity carries its unique set of odd or ritualistic behaviors. Running is no exception. In the few years I’ve been running, I’ve adopted some interesting habits that might make some think I’ve become slightly obsessed by sport…here are some weird things I do, but I bet some of you do them as well:

1. Run 40 miles per week, but still need to find the parking space closest to the door at the grocery store.

2. Talk out loud to yourself while running.

3. Hold up your Garmin to the sky because you swear you get satellites faster that way.

4. Sleep in your running clothes so you don’t have to change clothes for an early morning run.

5. Assume when someone passes you while you’re running that they are going a shorter distance than you are.

6. See the word “marathon” on the TV guide and get all excited before you realize it’s not related to running, but is related to a consecutive showing of episodes in a TV series.

7. Look at the clock and get a rush of excitement when your PR time comes up.

IF ONLY!!

8. Keep checking behind yourself while running alone – either for the boogeyman or someone who you are leaving in the dust even though you didn’t pass anyone for miles.

9. Apologize to the nail tech every single time you get a pedicure (I know my feet or gross, I’m so sorry, I run a lot…) – like he/she really cares. You know they’ve seen worse. Maybe.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Today Heidi and I did a 3.5 mile run around the lake. It was the first time really moving my legs since Sunday’s marathon and things felt a bit stiff (TWSS). The good news is that this is the first marathon I’ve run where my legs were not overly sore or achy the next day. I’m kind of impressed by that because I usually walk like I have a load in my pants for the 1-2 days following a marathon. You know how it is - kind of shuffling along, grabbing your quads every time you walk up stairs or sit on the toilet. I feel like throughout this training cycle my body learned how to recover from long runs relatively quickly with the right amount of refueling and rest.

I did have to chuckle to myself when I was at the doctor’s office today and the nurse asked if I was doing another marathon this weekend. Uh, yeah, right. And then I’m going to put on my super woman cape and save children from burning buildings.

Heidi is able to run further now, and we only took a few walk breaks where I had to coax her and tell her “looking strong!” “you’ve got this!” and “don’t quit now or you’ll hate yourself!” She was kind of tired after the fact and threw up a little (not the volumes she did last time). She is not smiling in this picture, but she is smiling inside I’m sure.

Heidi doesn’t know it but she is now doing the Couch to 5K program. Or, maybe we should call it the Floor to 5K because she is not technically allowed on the couch. She is getting into shape and slimming down. Clearly I need to be a trainer on the canine version of the Biggest Loser.

Here I am instructing Heidi on the best use of the foam roller after a run. I think this might help her recover faster.

So, we have the Bolder Boulder 10k this weekend in Boulder (duh). We always run it as a family – well, Ken and Sam go ahead and Emma, Kathy and I run together. We always dress in costumes (last year was tutus, year before hula skirts). I was trying to think of what we could wear this year and did a search. I might not have found the perfect costumes for us, but I surely did find some we will NOT be wearing:

I would suggest we wear this one, but I don’t own any tighty whiteys, don’t have a bulge and I don’t think the sashes would adequately cover my supple bosom.

This here is a very creative costume, but not anatomically or colorfully correct. There’s just something fishy about it too (hah!). It also looks very hot and furry to run in.

Now, this one would be very appropriate for me and I have experience wearing boxes because my brother and I were a pair of dices (die?) once for Halloween.

But, the BEST and most appropriate costume for me would certainly be this one. TOTAL genius:

Have any costume ideas for me? (Keep in mind my 12 year old daughter will be wearing the same thing, so I’d rather not go as a stripper or someone from Girls Gone Wild).

Monday, May 20, 2013

Marathon #4 has come and gone and now it’s time to move on. But not before I write a really lengthy race report and show you a ridiculous number of pictures. By the end of this you will feel like you have just run a marathon, or you will be sound asleep.

I guess I could be disappointed with the way things turned out. Probably a year or so ago I would have been. Maybe I’ve learned to take it easier on myself or maybe I’ve come to the realization that race times aren’t everything. Since I started running a few years ago I have learned so much about myself - how much pressure I put on myself, how hard I push, how dedicated I am, how much my colon works against me.

What I have also realized more recently is that sometimes I have tunnel vision that keeps me from enjoying what my body is actually capable of doing. I’ve grown weary of judging myself all the time and not celebrating the fact that I am 46 years old and can run a marathon even having come through some pretty major injuries. I swear, it’s all about reframing things. My attitude has shifted from a place of “it’s never enough” to a place of “I have everything I need.” That makes me happy.

Race Report

3:45 a.m. wake up call and the first thought was “Ugh. Can I run a marathon today?” Great attitude. But, I knew I could and I knew I would. Ken (who was running the half) and I headed down to Denver for my 6:00 a.m. start. This was a pretty small race, at least for the marathon, with only 1,200. I dropped the kids at the pool (or the porta potty – child abuse), I threw my junk clothes and half eaten bagel at Ken jumped in Corral B at the last minute. The weather was perfect, the morning calm. I felt ready to go.

For the first few miles I hung right on the ass of the 3:45 pacer like he was my own personal savior. My primary goal for this race was to qualify for Boston and I needed a 3:55. My marathon PR is a 3:42 but that was on a very fast and downhill course (Colorado Marathon), so I didn’t expect that time or anywhere near it. To give myself some room, I had created a 3:50 pace band (about an 8:46 average), and I knew in the first 8 miles I had banked some time.

I was going to do this. I comfortably passed the 3:45 pacer, feeling lots of energy as I ran through a downtown firehouse (damn firefighters were not naked and not even topless) and through the Bronco’s stadium. My energy waned a bit as I realized that there was no water as promised between miles 2 and 8. This made it hard to get down a gel, and kind of threw me off my fueling schedule. I got to mile 10 in about 1:29 (8:54 average), which still put me about 3 minutes ahead of my goal of 3:55. I knew I needed to keep on pace or I wouldn’t hit it. I started to feel nervous about not having more leeway (foreshadow).

That’s when the steady climb began. We were also running on Colfax, a major/busy road that goes from West to East Denver. Plain and simple, it’s ugly with lots of strip malls and car dealerships. Part of downtown Colfax is know for it’s wide array of hookers, pawn shops and liquor stores with bars on the windows. I thought I might turn some tricks for a bit of extra cash, but didn’t want to mess with my time goal.

No huge hills, but just about 10 miles of gradually heading up.

I knew my friends Joie and Kathy as well as my kids would be somewhere around mile 14. As I began to tire, I frantically searched for them, wanting to get a mental jolt. And, then there they were.

Kathy and the kids:

Gave a quick hug and was out of there.

More car dealerships. Who needs mountain views when you have those?

In all fairness, there were some pretty parts to the course, like running around this lake:

I love this picture because it shows amazing running form. Everyone should hyperextend their leg behind them.

I plugged on hitting 16 miles in 2:21. A couple of things happened. First, I got the dreaded “low battery” message on my iPod and it died. I really rely on music the last few miles of a marathon and I’m pretty sure I yelled “F&ck! Sh!t” to anyone who would listen. The other thing that happened was that I realized I was still 4 minutes ahead of my qualifying time and had been running an 8:48 average.

Then the wheels started to come off and I felt it all slipping away. I got nauseous. My legs didn’t want to move as fast. My stomach started cramping badly. I don’t think the antibiotics I was taking were doing me any favors either. Joie met me at mile 22 to pace me to the end. She was trying so hard asking what I needed, what I had to do to BQ at this point, and I could not even think. What I needed was to lay down and die.

At this point, goal times and pace times were all a bunch of numbers in my head, and we were trying to calculate what I had to do. She got ahead of me and just told me to hang on, but I couldn’t keep the pace. I just couldn’t. I kept moving, but I needed to be at an 8:15-8:30 and I couldn’t maintain that up some of the hills. At this pint a BQ was solidly gone and the best I could hope for was a sub-4 finish. I came in at 3:59:08 and had it not been for Joie I’m pretty sure that would not have happened.

Here is me coming out of the finish. I must have looked like shit because someone asked if I “needed medical.” No I just need to get the hell out of this mess of people before I throw up all over them.

Ken finished the half in 1:53 and was there waiting for me with the kids.

I don’t think Heidi cared about the race. She was just happy to see us.

She did care a lot, however, about the huge chocolate donut I brought home.

I missed a BQ by 4 minutes and was 16 minutes slower than my marathon PR. Sure that stings a bit, but honestly, it’s just not that big of a deal. My training went well, but not great the last several weeks due to a hamstring strain. I knew it was going to be a toss up as to what would happen. I’ve got lots more races coming up this summer and I’m thrilled to be going into the season in pretty good shape and not injured. The great news is I have no aches/pains today, no post-marathon shuffle.

I am going to get kind of philosophical here – but what else I have realized is that the people in my life who love me don’t care how fast I run or even if I ever run another race. And, I think I am learning to treat myself with that same kindness. That doesn’t mean I won’t still train my ass of, but it does mean that when I give 100% and it still doesn't get me the result I want, I can be at peace with that. And, I know I gave it all I had yesterday.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Today I worked the expo for Sunday’s Denver Colfax Marathon. It was held inside Sport’s Authority Field where the Broncos play. We’ll also run around the field on race day.

As a race ambassador I was there to answer race questions (What do I do if I crap my pants? How far is a marathon? Will beer be served at mile 19.5 and if so, what kind?). I milled around looking like I knew what I was doing – which was a lie. Although apparently someone thought I knew what I was doing because they interviewed me for the 5 o’clock news. And, then they didn’t air it. Guess I didn’t know so much after all.

If you want to see in-shape people, go to an expo. Out of shape people usually can be found at a buffet in Vegas, although that is stereotyping. I am not a fan of stereotypes, but I will admit they can sometimes be slightly accurate. Today I saw more bulging calf muscles and chiseled runner’s faces than I could count, but I wasn’t really counting.

I picked up my race swag:

This has to be one of my favorite race tees ever.

I’ve gotten many, many race shirts I’ve never worn and probably never will, but this one is an exception. I love the color, the simple graphics, the fit and most of all the length (not too short). I have some race tees that could seriously be mid-riff and worn with Daisy Duke shorts. Not quite my style, although I do frequently get told I look like Jessica Simpson (or maybe they said Marge Simpson). The brand is Leslie Jordan, and I am now a huge fan. Oh, and other great thing? If your size wasn’t right, you could exchange it, right there on the spot.

Next, the race people came up with something brilliant. You get a “runner’s gift” which for women is a silver chain link necklace. On race day, the medal will have a medallion attached to it that you then put on your necklace. Anyone ever heard of this before? I also love how they put your name on the bib!! Then people can yell, “Beth you look like hell, get your ass moving!”

Tomorrow I am taking my whole family back to the expo for the day. Ken and the kids will give out race bibs and packets. The kids said, “We like the way you just signed us up to work without asking.” Yep. Told you I was bossy. I will make it up to them by making them come and watch the marathon for four hours.

So, I told you I was feeling crappy this week. I think my head cold turned into a sinus infection. Started antibiotics yesterday and am hoping for the best. Feeling a bit better today. I know the drugs might mess with my already very sensitive stomach, so race day could be interesting. But I would rather have good energy and a shitty stomach than hit a wall at mile .4.

What’s the best and worst bit of swag you’ve ever gotten from a race? Best is probably the necklace or my mountain goat trophy. Worst was a pair of bright orange huge socks with a turkey on them.

What do you do with old race shirts? I sleep in some, give some to my kids and use some as rags.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

I did my last longer run this past weekend (10 miles) before my ultimate long run of 26.2 miles in 4 days. I read today in my “Running with the Mind of Meditation” book (really good read by the way)that people say they don’t like running because they don’t like pain. Hmmm…guess that makes me a pain lover.

When I tell people I am doing a marathon and they say, “Oh, that’s like 26 miles, right?,” I often yell, “POINT TWO. Twenty six point two miles!” Somehow that point two is very significant, probably because I want credit for every stinking teeny bit of mileage that I run.

I had to laugh when my friend Clair told me that she was at her daughter’s school and her daughter proudly told a friend, “My mom has run 26.2 miles TWICE!” The friend then asked Clair, “Can I have your autograph?” Sure. Here you go little munchkin.

So, my upcoming race feels like a crap shoot. Like I said in the last post, my energy’s been a bit lacking. Training went well up until a few weeks ago when I decided to race someone in boot camp (she didn’t know we were racing, but it was ON) and I pulled something. Serves me right. As time goes on and I get older and older, I am learning I should not do certain things anymore. These include but are not limited to:

Trying to show Emma how to do a front handspring

Trying to do a flip off the diving board

Trying to race someone in boot camp

Trying to have a shot of any alcohol

Trying to join in on a wet t-shirt contest (can’t say I’ve ever done this anyway, probably for the best).

Next thing you know I’ll be wearing black socks with sandals, giving money to PBS and debating pension plans.

I looked at my race course yesterday to find that it is fairly hilly. And not down-hilly. It should be illegal for marathon courses to have hills unless they are slanted down and not up. Also, the total distance is 26.35. That’s an ultra marathon if you ask me.

Maybe I’ll drop out and just lay around with Heidi, the smiling dog.

I’m just being a baby and psyching myself out. I need to shut up and taper, then shut up some more and go run 26 POINT THREE FIVE miles on May 19.

As for self doubt? It needs to be banished, burned at the stake. Here’s how:

1. Say it out loud. It’s okay to be a bit vulnerable and to tell people you’re anxious and not overly confident. Chances are your friends and family see you more objectively than you see yourself and will tell you to shut up you will do just fine . Plus, it simply feels good to be honest and let it out. However, be careful to not turn your admission into a bitch and whine fest because no one wants to hear that. Today I told Sam I had to get up at 3:30 a.m. for my race and he said, “Oh, poor thing? But, did anyone force you do this marathon? I don’t think so.”

2. Look for the pattern. If you’re feeling self doubt in a situation,you’ve probably felt it before in this very situation. Every time I think back to tapering for a big race, I have a pattern. I panic, eat a lot, have phantom aches and pains, think I’m getting sick and question my physical ability to complete the race in the way I want to. But, within a couple of days of the race, anticipation and slight excitement starts to creep in and the doubt fades, somewhat. So, I’ve been here before and will probably be here again.

3. Make a plan. In my mind, nothing squashes self doubt more than being proactive. For me, learning about the marathon course, getting my playlist together, knowing where the aid stations will be, driving the course if possible, and signing friends and family up for runner tracking (whether they wanted to be signed up or not – yes I can be bossy), has helped my anxiety a bit. I’ve always felt like my worst enemy is the unknown. The more you can familiarize yourself with a situation that is making you feel doubtful and anxious, the better off you’ll be.

4. Think about (and even embrace?) speed bumps. This kind of goes along with making a plan. If you mentally prepare for challenges that might come your way, you’ll be one step ahead of the game. I do this by checking the weather, bringing toilet paper for those unfortunate moments when bodily fluids make an appearance, testing out fueling/hydration beforehand and running in my race outfit to make sure nothing creeps into crevasses or rubs places raw.

I will not be wearing this (seen at the Boston Marathon 2011)

I haven't mentioned my goals for this race. On purpose. I’m being chicken and fearing I won’t get what I want. Hint: while a PR is always good, this is not my goal for this race.

What can you not (or should not) do anymore since you’re getting older? Oh, here’s another one. I can never trust a fart.

Do you think everyone has self doubt before races? I know I always do. And it usually goes much better than I expect. Usually.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Mother’s Day started with eggs benedict and chocolate chip pancakes and ended with steak, chardonnay and the season finale of Survivor, so basically all of my senses were satisfied.

I did realize, however, that even when it is Mother’s Day, it’s not entirely Mother's Day because kids have constant needs and preferences that they want you to know about. That is my nice way of saying that when I wanted the family to do a 3.75 mile hike with Heidi and it was hot and everyone was tired and had headaches, I finally had to say, “Guess what? This is not children’s day. This is my day. So suck it up.” Touchy/feely motherhood moment. At least Heidi had fun.

I don’t need gifts or fancy things, but what I always love are the home made cards from my kids. They range from the obscene (“Thanks mom for pushing me out of you a few years ago”) to touching poems (this is part of one from last year):

You’re the coolest mom in townBut when you fart I sure do frown.

Yesterday Sam got a bit crazy and drew me a picture.

I always think it’s interesting to see how your kids view you. Obviously I have a very round face, eyes that are extremely close together and uneven and a middle hair part. And, I am very impressed with his attention to detail with regards to my breasts. Perky.

This picture captures so many things I love. My new car (Ford Edge. Yes, I traded in the Maxima – just not a family car), my coffee, my new HEIDI (and she really does smile like that. I’ll show you a picture sometime), my SUAR sticker and my Colfax sticker (I am running the Denver Colfax Marathon on Sunday). The only things missing are Ken and the kids, but maybe they are laying on the floor or in the trunk because Heidi gets prime seating. Oh, and wine is missing also that but would be really BAD if I DWWD (Drank Wine While Driving).

Overall a wonderful day. The kind where you look around and you realize that nothing really needs to be different for everything to be just right.

By the way, it is 86 degrees here today. I got out for a nice, long bike ride. Made me very happy:

Now, here’s what I want to ask you. I am six days out from my marathon. I had a bad cold all of last week which definitely affected my stamina. I have been tapering, so not running as much, but generally feeling pretty low energy. Maybe it’s just the taper crazies, or maybe I’m just feeling the cumulative affects of marathon training. Then I wondered if my iron might be low. I’ve been anemic before, and seem to always teeter right on the edge. Probably need a blood test.

He also talks about how you might feel when you are low on iron (lethargic, heavy legs, overall crappy) and tells you what to do about it.

I’ve been focusing on eating iron rich foods like spinach and lentils (and steak last night!), but I am wondering if I should add an iron supplement, but probably need a blood test first. Honestly, the only reason I’m hesitant is that I know it could clog the pipes (that’s my clinical term for constipation- or as the Germans call it, Farfrompoopin) and that is seriously the last thing I need on race day. Suggestions?

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Please tell me I am not the only one that says and does stupid things. Like, REALLY stupid things. Yes, I’ve always been this way, but I think it is getting worse with age. Or, that is my excuse.

This morning at Starbucks I am waiting in line, thinking about getting an egg sandwich. I wanted it, but I only wanted it if it had cheese on it.

Barista:Can I help you?Me:Yes, I’d like an egg, sausage and cheddar sandwich.Barista:Okay. Is that all?Me: Ummm…yeah, but does that sandwich have cheese on it?Barista:Uh…yeah, well…that’s what the CHEDDAR is.

Seriously, if I had been that barista I would have screamed at me and said, “You dumb ass, do you not know cheddar is cheese? ” Starbucks must train their employees to not laugh and smirk at people, but just do it behind their backs when they leave.

I tried to make some excuse about being tired or not having enough caffeine yet, but both of those were lies. I just have to admit I am stupid at times and there seems to be very little I can do about it. Or, maybe it’s the hair color.

Prior to the cheddar incident, I had a very important job:

QUEEN OF THE AID STATION (with my friends Kathy and Nicky). It sucks to live in such a devastatingly ugly place.

Yes, those cups are filled in precise amounts and placed exactly 1” apart in even rows on the table. It’s called the OCD water station.

Me and my dear friend Nicky. She is as crude as I am. In this picture we are laughing because I just told her a story about a queef.

Every year our community has the Happy Smackah 5K race to benefit someone in our town who needs a bit of extra help. You might remember this started two years ago when my son’s teacher, Mr. Cribby, almost died very suddenly from an infection. He ended up losing his left arm and shoulder. That year, he had just gotten out of the hospital, and we had the race for him. This year he ran the race. This guy is amazing.

The reason the race is called the Happy Smackah is that Mr. Cribby is from Maine. A Happy Smackah (derived obviously from the term “Smacker”) is someone who:

Lives with a positive attitude

Lives a no nonsense, no excuses life

Takes joy in life’s little treasures

Doesn’t know what cheddar cheese is (I added that part in)

This year, the proceeds are going to a local school custodian who has been diagnosed with stage 3 colon and rectal cancer. Over 500 people ran today! Shut Up + Run was lucky enough to be a sponsor. Can you find it on the back of the shirt?:

It was such a gorgeous and warm day, we were actually a bit stressed out at the aid station with all of the activity. I love being on the other side of a race, cheering people on. Like my children:

I did not give Sam permission to take off his shirt. But, I think he was hoping the ladies were impressed. As his mother I was very impressed, especially at how pale he is.

Not to get all gushy, but days like today when I am out there with my friends and family, the sun is shining, I am laughing at stories and we are doing it all to help someone – I truly am a Happy Smackah.

Tell me about your most recent stupid-ism. Just so I know I’m in good company.

When’s the last time you volunteered at a race? What are you waiting for?